It is not a perk

One of the first times I met one of my good friends, I was wearing a T-shirt with the logo of the guy in a wheelchair (the International Symbol of Access) with the words "In it for  the parking." She said she knew then that we'd be friends.

I am not in a chair for parking.  I can, however, see how some people might see the parking as a perk of being disabled. They're idiots, of course, but8 I can think of a few things some people probably view as an advantage to a wheelchair.

Not me, but some of my friends with dogs have  people say to them, "I  wish I could bring my dog to X, Y, Z." Well, we wish we could walk.

I call a special number for tickets to an event, which seems awesome, avoiding TicketMaster. Of course, if the 50 accessible seats sell out, I am screwed. And 50 wheelchair seats in a venue is generous.

Unless you have a child or are wearing a wedding dress or something, though, it is hard for me to figure out why people use wheelchair stalls. This does not seem like a perk. You're in there for a reason that doesn't involve spreading out.

But I keep running into such people: at Awesome Con and yesterday at work.

Well-played, bathroom, well-played

If a room can be one's arch-nemesis, mine is the work bathroom.

I don't fall in it as frequently as I do in the one at home (this morning, for instance), but the work bathroom finds innovative, almost ingenious, ways to screw with me.

I was headed out of the bathroom and heard a big clanging. I looked back and a floor-to-ceiing   corner piece -- one of those things that fit on corners and hide where the pieces of wall come together had fallen on my chair.

I am sure I didn't do it. I am guessing Fame's vest got caught on it, although how that brought it down is beyond me.

Like I said, my nemesis.

French-kissed

Mornings are just hard. I lie on my bed yo put on socks, then pants, then shoes. I then transfer to my chair and stand up again to pull up my pants.

On the best days -- when I am functioning like a well-oiled machine -- it is a cumbersome task. Then there was Friday.

Unlike Claren, who heard my alarm and only wanted to go out so she could eat, Fame hears my alarm  as a signal to leap onto my bed and "cuddle." I use quote marks because cuddle usually means lick me or push herself against me forcefully. Yes, she'd stop if asked, but I like it.

On Friday, I opened my eyes to see an adorable, if non-human, female face staring me in the face and a tongue sliding into my mouth. To be clear, that face belonged to Fame, it didn't belong  to Lady Sif, Gamora, Seven of Nine or other non-humans who have carte blanche to wake me up with a kiss.

After choking/laughing, I proceeded to get up and was still brushing my teeth when Dad came in to drive me to work.

Wild Kingdom

On a trip to Great Falls with my uncle and then-girlfriend, I walked right past a big black snake curled up on a tree stump. My uncle pointed it out. The incident is burned in my brain. My uncle's, too, it turn out because it was the first time he brought his now-wifeto meet his mother.

I am glad to report that in 35 years or so my wildlife eyesight has improved a bit.

So when Mom and I were walking up the road a block from my house the  other night, I was the one who spotted the deer in the front yard of the house grazing on whatever.

As usual, an Awesome experience

As far as Doctor Who companions go, Donna Noble has always been high on my list. She is so funny and comes across as full of joy.

She's even higher after yesterday's Awesome Con. She put an arm around me for the photo, And  when we came in, she chatted with me while rubbing my arm.

Even with her chattiness, the photo op is still kind of an assembly line, so the only bad part was that Fame got turned around and blocked by my niece (you can see Fame's tail between my niece and her friend).

But it was fun.

Fame did well for the most part. It was crazy crowded, and she was the best dog there. She has a tendency to eat everything, so if there is a scrap of paper on the floor, she'll eat it before I remember to keep her from it. She's weird, but a million times better than the alleged service dog who went batshit crazy at the sight of Fame. Her wheelchair-using owner had the dog in a headlock, another person was talking to the dog, and staff showed up.

Despite the crowds, people generally made way for me.

My niece seemed to have the most fun, but I did, too. I saw my nephew, the woman who helps run it, and Donna rubbed my arm.